


Worth It

by Flynne



Series: Thaddeus Ryder [7]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: M/M, Macen Barro is alive in my canon, i will fite u bioware
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 12:24:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15707178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynne/pseuds/Flynne
Summary: Lexi had warned Thad that coming down from the stims would be difficult, but he hadn't anticipated how quickly the crash would come, or how hard he'd fall.





	Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a little self-indulgent throwaway piece of writing I never meant to publish, inspired by Lexi's dialogue before the attack on Meridian, but somehow it got a plot and 3300+ words. So here we are.

Lexi’s drug cocktail had been successful in keeping Thad running and on his feet during the assault on Meridian; but in the rush to get Silla out afterward, the flood of enthusiastic allies that had nearly swamped him, and the flurry of activity around the fallen  _ Hyperion _ , he’d let himself lose track of time. He knew the amount of drugs in his armor mod were limited, and he noticed when they ran out and gradually began to wear off: a sense of weariness slowly creeping up his back, the subtle burn as slight cramps began twisting through his muscles, an extra flutter in his too-rapid heartbeat. Lexi had warned him that coming down from the stims would be difficult, but he hadn’t anticipated how quickly the crash would come, or how hard he’d fall. 

He kept telling himself  _ just a little longer - a little longer... _ but then all at once between one breath and the next, the effort of taking another step was too much, and he shuffled to a halt. Tann had launched into a long-winded discussion with Pathfinder Hayjer, and nobody was paying attention to Thad. He made no sound, gave no indication that anything was wrong, and for the moment, no one noticed.

“Gil.” Even speaking quietly took an effort, his voice breathless and strained, but Gil had stayed close by his side and heard him anyway. 

The expression in his eyes was half-amused, half-irritated as he turned away from Tann, but one look at Thad’s sheet-white face snuffed all traces of humor. “Oh, hell.”

_ “Thaddeus?” _ SAM’s voice buzzed in his ear.  _ “Is something wrong?” _

Thad couldn’t answer. A wave of nausea slammed into him with the force of a charging wraith. He had to get out of there, wanted to run, but he knew if he tried to walk on his own, he’d fall. He gulped against the saliva flooding his mouth, and reached for Gil with an unsteady hand. “Get me back to the  _ Tempest. _ Now.” 

Gil moved quickly, stepping close to his side to wrap his arm tightly around Thad’s waist. Thad’s arm fell heavily across his shoulders as Gil steered him away. Avitus saw them go, but at a quick shake of Gil’s head he turned away, shifting over a little closer to Macen just enough to block Tann’s line of sight. 

Thad felt too sick to be grateful. He clung to Gil as he steered them back toward the ship. His accelerated heartbeat picked up even more, becoming rapid and thready, and he stumbled as the cramping muscles in his legs spasmed. 

_ “Gil, what is wrong?” _ SAM asked. The AI wasn’t programmed to feel or express emotion, but his tone was decidedly more insistent than it had been when he’d asked Thad. 

“You can’t tell?” Gil asked. 

_ “I am still not connected with Thaddeus the way I was before,” _ SAM answered.  _ “I cannot read his physiology to deduce the problem.” _

“It’s the bloody drugs,” Gil bit out. “Damn it. We  _ knew _ this would happen. We should’ve got you straight back to the  _ Tempest _ with Silla. Damn it.  _ Damn _ it.” 

_ It’s okay, _ Thad wanted to say.  _ I’m all right. _ But he wasn’t, not at all. Gil’s anxious profanity-ridden litany reached his ears as if through a long tunnel, and he felt hot and cold all at once. Any other day, the distance to the  _ Tempest _ wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but with Thad unable to stand on his own and shaking as if he’d been roaming the frozen surface of Voeld without his armor, the trek through the low, rolling hills was distressingly far.  

They followed the curve of the terrain past a tall, unruly patch of scrub brush, boots crunching on the gravelly earth - and then a grating, growling sound reached their ears that had nothing to do with the ground beneath their feet. 

A kett soldier - bleeding, half-dead - lifted its sniper rifle and took aim at Thad from where it lay hidden beneath the brush.

The next instant stretched into an eternity. Gil gasped raggedly, his hold on Thad becoming hard as iron bars, and he started to turn - 

\- turning away from the kett, turning his back to the enemy, placing himself between Thad and the gun - 

“No, _ don’t!” _ The cry tore out of Thad’s throat. With strength he didn’t know he still had, he wrenched out of Gil’s arms and threw his hand forward. A biotic surge raced down his arm, smashing into the kett in a purple-white flash. The kett’s body tumbled brokenly out of sight. A vicious spike lanced from Thad’s amp down his spine. He staggered forward, sight blurring with involuntary tears of pain. His arm felt as heavy as stone but he raised his hand again, curling his numb fingers into a fist to trigger a burst of fire from his wrist. The kett’s body erupted into flame as the incinerating blast hit. 

Gil caught hold of him, falling to his knees beside him as Thad’s legs buckled. “Don’t,” Thad said again, voice a dry rasp. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Gil’s face was unnaturally pale and he looked as ill as Thad felt. “He would have shot you!” he snapped back.

“I’m wearing armor!”

“He had a  _ Naladen!  _ Your armor’s  _ shit _ against a hit like that at this range when your shields aren’t up and you  _ know _ it!” 

“I don’t care!” Thad said fiercely. He gripped Gil’s shoulders with both hands and pressed his forehead against his chest. “Just don’t,” he said, voice breaking. “Not you.”

Gil’s sigh seemed to come from the toes of his boots. He didn’t speak, but slumped back to sit on the ground, holding Thad tightly against him. Both of them were shaking - Gil from adrenaline and relief now that the threat was passed; Thad from the aftereffect of the drugs. Gil kissed the crown of Thad’s head. “You seem to have forgotten you’re not the only one who feels that way,” he said hoarsely. “But seeing as you’ve nearly fried your nervous system, I’ll let it slide for now.” He smoothed his hand over Thad’s sweat-matted hair. “Come on. We’d better get you back.”

He extricated himself from beneath Thad’s slumped form and crouched next to him, passing his arms under Thad’s to lock his hands behind Thad’s shoulder blades. “Ready?”

Thad nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay. One, two, three, up.”

The ground tilted unsteadily as Thad climbed to his feet, but with Gil’s help, he made it upright once again. It was harder to walk now. Using his biotics had left his limbs feeling numb, as if they’d fallen asleep, but he managed to get going again.

For Gil’s part, he was torn between trying to move slowly and unobtrusively in case there were any other kett stragglers, or forging ahead to get Thad back to the  _ Tempest _ as fast as possible. After a short way, he chose to favor speed over stealth - Thad’s surge of strength drained away rapidly, and beads of sweat clung to his bangs where they brushed against his face.

Gil released a heavy sigh of relief as the  _ Tempest _ finally came into view. They’d almost made it to the ship’s ramp when Thad’s legs failed him. Gil swore again, barely able to turn his collapse into a controlled descent. Thad gagged and retched, bringing up what little was in his stomach as he fell to his hands and knees. 

Gil knelt beside him, both arms around his torso, holding him off the ground. He tried to get Thad to his feet again, but between the weight of his armor and the tremors shaking his boneless frame, he couldn’t get leverage to lift him. “Come on, Thad, come on - We’re almost there, I can’t carry you on my own, you’ve got to help me…”

Thad swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and tried to obey. His left arm curled tightly around the back of Gil’s neck, right hand clutching the front of his coveralls as he tried to stand. But he couldn’t. He let go as he retched again, dimly hearing Gil calling out over the high-pitched ringing in his ears. 

A shadow fell across them both, and Thad felt a thick, heavy arm curl underneath him and haul him to his feet. “Okay, kid, time to go,” Drack rumbled in his ear. 

The old krogan lifted Thad into his arms and carried him into the ship. Thad’s heart thudded fast and heavy against his ribs, the force of his pounding pulse making his hands shake. His stomach wrenched again and he curled forward around it. Drack grunted and shifted his hold. “Don’t puke on me.” 

Thad gritted his teeth. “I’ll do my best.”

Lexi met them halfway to the infirmary. “SAM told us you were on the way,” she told Gil, “but he couldn’t tell us where you were. We had to wait for you to get here.” She saw his shaken appearance and gave him a hurried once-over. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Gil said tightly. 

“What happened?”

“He seemed fine - I look away for a minute and then he’s white as a ghost and ready to keel over.”

Lexi shook her head ruefully. “I’m sorry, Ryder. I really didn’t think it would hit you so quickly.”

Thad flinched reflexively as she leaned forward to shine a light in his eyes. Drack adjusted his hold. “We’re almost there,” he grumbled. “I’m strong, but I’m old, and unless you want me to drop him here, you’ll wait until I can set him down.”

Lexi answered, but it didn’t register on Thad’s awareness. Now that he and Gil were back, were both safe, he found that the effort to stay alert was becoming too much for him. He sagged against Drack’s shoulder and shut his eyes, barely stirring when he was finally set down on the infirmary bed. 

“What happened to him?” Silla, voice sharp and worried. “Gil?”

Before Gil could answer, Thad opened his eyes and turned toward his sister. She was sitting up, half out of bed already. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly.

“What happened?” she demanded again.

“SAM’s connection is still weak,” Lexi explained. “I had to give your brother some stimulants to keep him on his feet. Unfortunately, they’re starting to wear off and the results are a bit severe.”

Silla had more questions for Lexi, but Thad shut his eyes and let his attention drift, the voices of Lexi and his sister fading into the background. Gil slid his arms beneath his shoulders and lifted him as Lexi released the catches on his armor. He shuffled along the mattress to sit behind him and let Thad lean back against his chest, head resting in the pocket of his shoulder. 

“Is there anything you can do for him?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” Lexi said apologetically. “I think the best course of action is to wait for his body to metabolize the remnant of the drugs, and when he’s stabilized, take him back to SAM node on the  _ Hyperion _ to let SAM connect with him again.”

Gil’s chest rose and fell in an unhappy sigh. Thad gave the arm laying across his chest a weak pat. “‘S’okay. I’m - ” He swallowed the rest of his answer as his stomach lurched again. Bile burned the back of his throat. Gil felt his body tense, but held on to him, murmuring assurances in his ear.

Lexi’s expression softened with sympathy, and she patted Thad’s knee. “I think I can give you something for the nausea, though.”

After a moment, Thad felt the subtle sting of an injection in his arm. “What, I don’t get a lollipop?” he slurred. 

The huff of breath that escaped Gil’s chest wasn’t even close to a laugh, but Thad felt him smiling slightly as his lips pressed against his temple. “Try to sleep it off,” he whispered. “I’ll be right here.” 

The deep breath Thad took was more of an effort to fight back his nausea instead of a contented sigh, but he sank back into Gil’s embrace and did his best to relax. Despite his weariness, he didn’t think he was going to be able to rest. He still felt sick and sore, and strangely disconnected from himself without SAM. But the warmth of Gil’s arms and the slow, reassuring rise and fall of his chest gradually lulled him to sleep.

\--------------------

Waking up hours later felt like slowly rising through thick tar, but when he finally opened his eyes, Thad found that the pounding ache in his head had lessened. His mouth felt dry as chalk, but the twisting nausea was gone. The infirmary was dim and quiet - the deep silence of the  _ Tempest _ planetside, with her engines at rest. 

He glanced around the room, looking to see if Silla was there, but instead he saw Gil, slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair next to his bed, head lolling back over the headrest. 

“Gil.” His voice grated like sand in his throat. Gil didn’t budge at the sound of his name, but woke with a start when Thad’s hoarse cough broke the silence. 

“Oh, hey…” Gil sat up, scrubbing a hand across his face. “How’s the illustrious Archon killer?”

“Feeling like I got stomped on by an eiroch - which has happened, by the way - but it’s a step up.” Thad gave him a fondly chiding look as he saw him rubbing the crick in his neck. “You should’ve gone to bed.”

“Silla was feeling better so Lexi said she didn’t have to stay in here. We let her stay in the pathfinder cabin.”

“You’ve got a bunk, don’t you?”

Gil made a face. “I haven’t slept there in weeks. It’ll be musty.” His tone softened. “Besides, I wanted to stay with you.” He patted Thad’s shoulder. “Think you could keep some water down?”

Thad took a long breath and swallowed carefully. His throat was parched, but the injection Lexi had given him earlier had worked, and the nausea was gone. At his nod, Gil filled a cup halfway from a bottle he’d brought in to keep by the bed. He helped Thad sit, and propped him up while he took slow sips to drain the cup. 

“Don’t suppose I get any more?” Thad asked when he was done. 

He’d anticipated Gil’s apologetic shake of the head, but he made a disappointed face all the same. Gil set the cup aside. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t make a reappearance, and try more later. But hey! Turn that frown upside down. Lexi left you some jammies.” He held up a cloth hospital gown. “Ready to get changed?”

Thad rolled his eyes, but nodded, and Gil reached for the zipper of his undersuit. The material was rigid and gritty, cold and clammy in places where the sweat hadn’t dried. Thad grimaced as it peeled away from his skin. “I see what this is,” he said with a pained gasp, wincing as bruises and battle-sore muscles flared. “This is a blatant ploy to get into my pants.”

Standing behind him, Gil snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. Have you caught a whiff of yourself lately?” But when Thad shrugged stiffly out of his sleeves to let the undersuit slide down around his waist, Gil leaned down and gently kissed the nape of his neck.

Thad shivered at the warmth against his chilled skin, but Gil’s touch held no desire, only affection, and goosebumps that ran down his body were from the cold, nothing more. He gratefully draped the gown over his shoulders as he slid his arms through the short sleeves, pulling it closed across his chest. 

“You still good sitting up for a minute?” Gil asked. 

“Yeah.”

“All right, let’s get this mess dealt with, then.” Gil pulled Thad’s ponytail down, finger-combing through the blond tangles as best he could before pulling it back into a loose braid that would be more comfortable while he slept. 

Thad smiled as he reached back and patted his hair. “Hey, not bad. You been taking lessons from Silla?” 

“Why so surprised? You of all people should know that I have nimble fingers,” Gil said with a wink. Thad laughed, leaning on Gil as he helped him out of the rest of his undersuit, and to and from the infirmary’s tiny lavatory.

“Want any more water?”

“No. Just wanna sleep.” Thad dropped onto the mattress. It felt like it took all the strength he had left just to pull his blanket up, but he managed to shuffle himself over to one side of the narrow infirmary bed, patting the open area next to him.

Gil smiled, soft and tired, and took off his boots before lying down on top of the blankets beside him. He had to lay on his side in order to make it work, but he fit comfortably after he draped his arm across Thad’s waist. “I know you feel like shit, but you do look a little better.” 

“I feel a little better. Well, relatively speaking. I probably won’t puke on you.”

“Vomit on me, and you sleep alone for a month,” Gil said, but he snuggled closer and rested his head against Thad’s shoulder.

Thad smiled. Even without his grimy undersuit, he knew he probably didn’t smell very good, but Gil didn’t seem to care. “Guess it’s a good thing I missed this afternoon, then.” His smile faded, though, as he shifted one hand to rest it on Gil’s forearm. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Gil didn’t answer right away. “It would have been worth it, you know. To protect you,” he said, very softly. “And before you do something foolish like argue with me, remember that you would have done the same thing.”

Thad closed his eyes. He’d been a heartbeat away from losing Gil, and only luck - and the fact that the kett’s injuries had been worse than his own - had saved him. But he couldn’t deny that Gil was right. If their positions had been reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated to put Gil’s life above his own, and the knowledge that Gil had done it for him made his chest ache with so much remembered fear and love and gratitude so that he could scarcely breathe. “I would have,” he admitted when he could finally speak. 

“There you have it, then. You may be the the big badass Archon killer in this relationship, but that’s not going to keep me from taking care of you any way I can.”

Gil’s words were deep and tender, but he spoke with his habitual matter-of-fact cheerfulness that loosened the tangle of emotion in Thad’s chest and made him smile. Thad kissed his forehead, then lifted Gil’s chin with his fingertips to kiss him again. “And I love you for it,” he said, answering in kind. “But between you and me, I’d rather you did it by keeping the  _ Tempest  _ running and braiding my hair.” 

Gil chuckled. “Well, if we’re being honest, so would I.”  

Thad rested his palm over Gil’s arm again, slowly moving his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress. “You told me it was hard,” he said after a moment, “staying on the ship when you know I’m heading into a fight. I grew up in a military family. I thought I understood what you meant, but…I didn’t. Not really. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I said it was hard, but I wasn’t complaining. Believe it or not, I knew what I was getting into when I took up with you,” he said with a lopsided smile. His teasing expression grew fond as he added, “You’re worth it.”

Thad closed his eyes again and leaned his forehead against Gil’s. “So are you,” he whispered. 

They lay together in silence after that. Despite Thad’s exhaustion, Gil was the first to fall asleep. Thad remained still in the dim quiet, feeling the slow drum of Gil’s heartbeat, the warmth of breath against his neck, the reassuring weight of his body against his own. His awareness of his own discomfort gradually faded as he let Gil’s presence soak into him, and for the second time that day, he drifted off to sleep within Gil’s arms.


End file.
